The Way is Up
by Ironi Numair
Summary: Post-Nemesis. Lore is reactivated to find himself coerced by the eldest surviving Soong android into assisting in his personal quest. The goal: recover Data.
1. Prologue

The Way is Up

* * *

The days were short on this planet, the twin suns setting in opposite directions creating a pink halo all around the horizon. The stars were visible through the great gaping blue hole above. Most would find it beautiful, but after nearly two years drifting in space, Lore had had about all he wanted of stars. That was years ago, but the memory was as fresh as ever to the android. A very long, repetitive memory.

As soon as the suns had vanished from view a wind kicked up, blowing the desert sands into their faces. Lore shut off his breathing apparatus; sand was nigh impossible to get out of his systems. His brother, however, was not so lucky. Switching between the digital voice modulator and the voicebox synthesizer was exceedingly difficult for him so he'd made do with a heavy scarf covering the lower half of his face. He squinted into the wind, trying to shield eyes that lacked the protective lenses that the later models enjoyed.

"Why are we on this planet anyway?" Lore groused, walking beside his brother, "It deviates from our course, and at least the company from that last trader ship was tolerable."

Myth glared at him from sand-crusted eyes. "They have good ships here, and are not familiar with androids. We can use that to our advantage."

"Not Federation, I'll wager. We'll need currency of some kind."

"I do not have any."

"Well, there goes your ingenious idea. Unless you plan to steal one?"

"We are androids; we will use that to our advantage. Must I repeat myself? You are the one with the superior brain."

"So we're stealing one."

"I have never known humans to _give_ starships away."

Lore couldn't help but smirk at that.

* * *

The city was rustic in relation to the small starcraft that even in the night dotted the skies with lights. Lamps lit every road for a people all too used to long nights and citizens were still active in the city center. The buildings helped to block the wind and Myth pulled down his scarf to get a proper breath. Lore drew back his hood and took a better look around.

The lamps were a warm orange that added color to their pale skin and would help blend them into the crowds. A port of minor repute, the citizens of the city paid little attention to strangers, but the androids remained wary, especially as said crowds grew thicker and the lights brighter.

Myth was relieved when he found the establishment he was looking for, or at least something _like_ relief. He was still not too certain how to behave around humans and their allies, his recent sentience allowing him limited experience among them as a self-aware being. The _Enterprise_ had been his first time among humans that he could remember, before that was the recordings of a machine that knew only its survival programming among the Romulans and then the Remans. He tried transposing an emotion for those days from Data's memories, and found "terrifying" a good one, though he still couldn't quite comprehend it.

Doctor Soong was gone; there would be no more emotion chips for his remaining wayward sons.

Lore had known emotion at one time, and the loss of it was noticeable even to Myth. But it was a preferred loss in Myth's view, as Lore was unstable but manageable, at least for now. True emotion could easily overload the tenuous link he maintained with his brother. When that broke, he was certain he would be on his own again. If Lore didn't try to kill him, of course.

The two androids approached the door of the run-down building. Loud shouts and music emanated from within and Lore concluded it to be a place of social gathering, probably a bar. Myth stopped in the doorway, thinking, before he turned to his brother.

"Actually, you will remain here."

"Excuse me? I believe I have the most experience when it comes to dealing with humans."

"Indeed, I do not doubt that, but I also do not trust you. Remember, I managed well enough on my own for nearly a year gathering your parts." He turned and entered the building before Lore could formulate a replay, letting the door slam in his face.

Lore cursed. It was a human reaction, but one that had satisfying results at times and so Lore had no compunctions in emulating it. He pulled his hood back over his head, drawn low, and slumped against the wall in wait. It had taken effort not to follow the upstart inside, to even now walk away and try to rid himself of this humiliation. Myth was inferior to him, the prototype, his positronic net nowhere near as developed. It took most of his brain power just to keep his functions running! Not to mention ungrateful. Lore had named him, and in that sense, given him the identity he had craved. But Myth had Data's memories, and so while he'd never met Lore, he knew him in a way, and had attached this damn link to him when he'd been reassembled.

But another part of Lore whispered for patience. It would only be a matter of time before Myth saw the futility in this fools' quest and, as promised, severed the link for good and let Lore free to live his renewed life as he saw fit. Indeed a part of him was grateful himself, if not to Myth specifically then simply to the situation, otherwise he'd still be scraps in a Federation lab. His last memory was of Data deactivating him.

Not too much time passed before Myth returned, two eager-looking humans behind him.

"These gentlemen have a ship for sale," he explained to Lore without preamble, "you will look it over while I conduct negotiations."

Lore nodded and fell in step behind the small group. If Myth did have one redeeming quality it was his method of "negotiation." It was a tactic they'd used before, Lore would prime the ship while Myth dealt with the humans. His brother's ethical programming wasn't quite up to par either, it seemed.

* * *

The ship was not overly impressive, small and bare of comforts, but it was fast and built for long distances. Just what they needed. Lore tapped at the console absently as they left the atmosphere, humming a little ditty to himself. Myth stuck his head in and held up a crude but powerful plasma rifle for Lore to see.

"Look what they decided to throw in for us," he said with a small grin that borderlined stupid.

Lore took note of the holes burned into Myth's clothes from said rifle. While his brother was good at slapping humans around if necessary, he preferred just to make off with their weapons. They'd gained quite a collection over time. Lore laid in the coordinates while Myth set the weapon aside and then sat beside him. He unwound the scarf from his head and, for whatever reason, smacked Lore in the face with it. Lore glowered at him.

"Cheer up, little brother," Myth said uncharacteristically, "our journey draws to a close."

"Now comes the hard part."

That sobered Myth quickly and he nodded. "Yes, but it will be worth it."

Lore sighed in annoyance. "You do know how utterly useless this is, right? Look, two outta three isn't so bad, especially when you consider our lifestyles."

"We are practically immortal, Lore, we should not _have_ to suffer losses." Myth looked out into the stars that became all the clearer with each passing second, his mind scanning memories that weren't his own. "You said you loved him, do you remember that?"

"Desperate words for the sake of survival!" Lore snapped, "I don't recall him considering _my_ immortality when he deactivated me, or shut you off without intent of activating you again!"

Myth was silent for so long that Lore thought he'd finished and settled back for the long ride.

Until Myth finally said, "Can you really blame him?"

Lore got up and went to the back to double check the small weapons array. They'd probably need it.

* * *

_A/N: A random idea I came up with. I have no knowledge of Star Trek canon after_ Nemesis _so I apologize for errors on that end. This is supposed to just be a prologue, but we'll see where it goes. I'm not too sure I captured Lore's voice right. Critisism is always welcome and thank you for reading._


	2. B4

B-4 was certain that Captain Jean-Luc Picard would have him removed from the _Enterprise_ as soon as possible this time. The offense was too great, the hurt he had brought them all, after they had been so kind to him. The look on their faces before he'd ran…

He didn't mean to, he couldn't _control_ it!

"We'll talk later," Picard had said as he rose to leave. Even then B-4 knew the captain was most likely referencing his future, as there was no reason to keep a spare, mentally deficient android aboard the ship. Especially one that was a walking reminder of their lost friend. And yet as the _Enterprise_ moved off into the depths of space for another mission, he found himself still there. He was even assigned a room.

In his own way, he came to like the humans of the ship, they let him ask questions, even answered them! The Romulans had grown tired of his queries to the point where they had removed his voice modulator for a time, and the Remans had quickly taught him not to ask at all. But the answers the humans gave him provided an influx of data he'd never had before, so one day he managed to articulate his confusion in full to the captain. Why did they let him stay on the _Enterprise_? What was he supposed to _do_?

Picard regarded him sadly, though he managed a smile, and said, "You're Data's brother, he wanted to help you. The least I can do is give you a place to stay until you know what you want to do."

"What I want?"

"Yes, you are free to choose your own way now, B-4. Once you know what that is, we'll drop you off anywhere you want to go."

Three weeks, four days, eighteen hours, forty-two minutes and thirty-six seconds. B-4 could not break down the time any further.

During that time, Data's memories began their sluggish way through his inferior neural nets. He began to recognize faces of those he hadn't seen before, to understand functions of the ship he couldn't know. He made the best of it and helped when he could but for the most part he was sent away. His presence upset many, particularly the bridge crew. Still, he tried.

The worst of it was during his restoration cycle. When it came to energy stores, B-4 was less efficient than his brothers. He used more energy in comparison to his ability to produce it and so spent at least an hour a day in a state akin to human sleep to restore himself. He had also learned to maintain a basic awareness of his surroundings during his cycle, be it an open eye or an increase in his auditory sensitivity. It had saved him a few times on Remus. But it was a useless tactic when faced with the memories of his deceased brother, who found his restoration cycle a most opportune time to surface en mass and confuse him.

He had already woken a few times to wonder why he was not in his room, or the time he'd excused himself from helping Guinan so he could go feed Spot. But those slips were gone as quick as they came.

Not this time.

He'd woken and quickly dressed in his uniform before heading to the bridge to be on time for his shift, trying to whistle on the way. He _still_ couldn't get that tune right. The lift doors opened and he strode onto the bridge and moved to his station, only to stop and wonder why the ensign at the con wasn't moving for him. She just stared at him, wide eyed, before looking beyond him to the officer behind him in confusion.

"B-4!" Beverly Crusher cried, and he couldn't tell if it was in shock or anger.

But the name snapped him out of his fugue. He stood there as they stared for a brief moment, an actual feeling creeping through him. Dread, he gleaned from Data.

He fled the bridge.

He'd hurt them, these people who had been so kind to him, and now they would want him off their ship.

B-4 spent the last several days in hiding, creeping from place to place in a childlike mentality that told him to stay out of sight. It had worked on Remus, to an extent, whenever he got into trouble for some offense he didn't understand. They always found him eventually, but on occasion enough time had passed that they would forget whatever it was he did or didn't do and would send him back to work. But most of the time he was only putting off the inevitable and would get punished when found. The Romulans thought him too valuable to destroy and so found other methods that wouldn't cause permanent damage. A favorite would be to remove his arms and toss them into a mining pit, then send him down after them. B-4 suffered a lot of bad falls from that. The worst were the ones that involved removing his eyes, simply because they would never put them back in right. Replacing them himself always left a film of dirt and grime that took some time to blink away.

An access shaft was his current hiding place and he'd been there for some time now. Nobody came down here much, and he would hear them coming with enough time to move elsewhere. As an android, B-4 was able to maintain one position for long periods of time that would drive most humans insane, and so he'd been curled in the access shaft, staring at his knees for over a day now.

A new experience came to him as the hours passed by: boredom. Another gift from Data, as he'd never experienced this before. But counting threads on his clothes wasn't particularly interesting, regardless how nice they were. Replicated cloth had very few flaws. He sighed, which was also new.

That song was looping through his head, though he could never seem to grasp it all at once. He started humming to himself, just the chorus, over and over, as he began to count threads again. He really wanted to get the rest of it, but the all the words continued to elude him…

"B-4?"

Geordie La Forge crouched at the entrance of the access shaft. B-4 judged from the kit in his hand and the look of surprise that Geordi hadn't been looking for him, it was just a chance of "fate" that they'd crossed paths. Shinzon had talked about fate a lot, but B-4 was only now beginning to comprehend this abstract concept.

"What are you doing down here?" Geordi asked as he climbed inside the shaft, shuffling towards B-4.

"Hiding." He'd already been physically found, concealing the rest was a moot point.

"Hiding from what…?" He trailed off as he got a good look at the android.

B-4 realized he was still wearing the bridge uniform and would have cursed had he been able. "I am sorry. My brother…his memories overpower me sometimes. I get confused. Will I be removed from the _Enterprise_?"

Geordi gave him a long look and shook his head. "Nobody's upset with you, B-4, you're not gonna get thrown off the ship for something that _we_ did to you. Here, let me pass."

B-4 constricted himself as much as possible as Geordi weaseled past him. He liked Geordi, and Data's memories only backed these thoughts and made them into a semblance of affection. Geordi had not only reassembled him, but had fixed all his damaged parts so that he was almost new again. B-4 had no concept of feeling good or bad, especially then, but he knew what it was to be damaged for long periods of time when your programming demanded it was something to be fixed as soon as possible. But when they'd attached his head, his body immediately went through its systems check and came back reporting nothing wrong. The plates in his forearm that had been smashed and fused flexed with ease, and he could twist it and roll his wrist again. The missing components in his lower leg and ankle had been replaced and for the first time in years he could walk smoothly again. The various whirring that accompanied his every move was gone, and so was the damage to his voice modulator. He'd looked to Geordi and Data in confusion.

"You were pretty banged up," Geordi explained, "but after years of working with this guy," he jerked a thumb in Data's direction, "we've become pretty good at fixing androids around here."

After the miraculous system check, he'd sat up and flexed all the plates covering his body. Every single one moved with ease, none stuck or jerked at the wrong time. He was so fascinated by this that he sent them all to ripple up and down him all at once so hard he shuddered. Geordi laughed, but Data had given him a look he didn't understand then. In hindsight, it was suspicion. How could he be so thrilled at being completely functional again if he remembered nothing prior?

In truth, he didn't know how he'd ended up on the planet any more than he knew what Shinzon's plans were. He didn't remember their creator. But he did have memories of before the planet, and the vague emotions he was able to transpose from Data made him sometimes wish he could erase them. But then there would be nothing of B-4 and Data's memories would overtake him.

B-4 had just begun to truly live himself, and he wasn't ready to give that up if he could avoid it, as much as he wanted his brother back.

There had to be another way.

"You don't have to stay in here, nobody's gonna give you a hard time," Geordi called back down the shaft, his face nearly planted in a revealed panel, "but I would change that uniform."

B-4 slid back down to entrance of the shaft without a word. He knew a dismissal when he heard one. Not that he blamed Geordi, he was Data's closest friend, and B-4 was just a walking reminder of what he'd lost.

Just a reminder. Save his own initial memories, the recordings of a stupid machine, he was just a facsimile of Data.

A foreign feeling washed through him with intensity, almost burning, building energy in his limbs, and he struck his fist against the wall. It smashed through and left a sparking hole.

B-4 ran back to his room as fast as he could and tore the Starfleet uniform off.


	3. Moving On

B-4 had hesitated when asked his name in the lab. While his identification was stored in his programming, it was something he'd never accessed before. The Romulan cyberneticists who'd studied him referred to him as the android or simply "it." There was one who called him "he," and he considered her better than the others. She would at least turn him off before separating important systems from his interior. B-4 couldn't feel pain, but he knew when parts of him were removed and had to suffer the loss of them in his own way. Even something as relatively unimportant as his breathing apparatus, when ripped from him without warning, sent his inferior positronic brain into shock as it tried and failed to locate the lost system and compensate for it.

On Remus, B-4 was called "machine" or other, more colorful names, but B-4 had never understood how he could be an act of procreation, much less a stupid one. Didn't that occur during inebriation? That question got him a solid strike to the forearm from a Reman carrying metal supports that crushed the plates and several of the systems underneath. When he insisted on stopping to fix it, the Romulan overseers removed it for the rest of the day, and yet became upset when he couldn't keep up his workload.

The arm that now flexed beautifully, no indication it had ever been damaged. Any passing him in the corridor would think him more fascinated with it than any destination, but he reached it without issue all the same.

He'd never been to the captain's personal quarters, but Data knew where it was and its layout, and thus so did he. B-4 hesitated at the door. He should wait until later, speaking with the captain in his quarters seemed wrong, like he was overstepping a boundary. He didn't belong here, after all.

Four months, two weeks, one day and sixteen hours, twenty-four minutes and twelve seconds. He'd been on the _Enterprise_ long enough.

During that time, he developed a smoother speech and increased cognitive awareness. Even Geordi had congratulated him on that, to which B-4 had replied that he was merely pulling dialogue from Data's memories and replacing the words as necessary. Judging by the look Geordi had given him, he should have just followed human etiquette and said "thank you." On the rare occasion he came up with his own thoughts and tried to express them, his speech slowed and stumbled as it always had. It was…was…

_Frustrating_, Data whispered.

Yes, that worked. Thank you.

_You are welcome. Are we going to see the captain or just employ new residence in the corridor?_

B-4 stopped. This was certainly a new development.

* * *

Captain Picard looked up from his book at the sound of the door chime. It was late, not so much so that any social call would be rude, but he still wasn't expecting anyone.

"Come," he called, setting his book aside.

The door slid open and B-4 stuck his head in, surveying the room before entering. It was one of his habits Picard had come to expect. After that, he deviated from his norms and walked in with all the confidence in his step as his late brother. It was perturbing, but Picard found it in himself to be happy for the android's breakthrough. His progress had grown by leaps and bounds during the last several months, and Picard had to wonder how much of that was Data's influence or B-4's own untapped potential.

"Good evening, sir. Am I disturbing you?" B-4 asked politely, pausing an appropriate distance from the starship captain. He even stood like Data.

"Not at all, B-4. Please sit, what can I do for you?"

B-4 hesitated. "Sir, I request to be dropped off at the nearest starbase when convenient."

That was not at all what Picard had expected, and something inside him cried "no!" For all that the android was a painful reminder of Data, he carried his memories. He was something left behind by an excellent officer and dear friend. Picard supposed it was a control issue; Data's death was sudden, and B-4's presence allowed the captain to decide when closure would occur. And now B-4 was taking that choice from him. It was almost humorous.

Well, good for him.

B-4 misread Picard's silence and continued. "I am grateful for all that you have done for me, sir, for what the crew has done. But I…I am…I need…" He began tapping his head with the heel of his hand. No one was sure where he'd developed this trait, or how he could possibly consider it would aid in his thinking process. Something across the room caught his eye and he stopped as he lost his train of thought entirely.

"B-4," Picard began and wait until he had the android's attention again, "have you thought about what you're going to do?"

"I will manage."

"I see. You should know I received a communication from the Daystrom Institute with a proposal for you."

"They wish to disassemble me."

"Nothing so drastic. You are the last functioning Soong-type android, and they wish to study your functions and compare it with what they've learned from Lore. You would not be disassembled or deactivated and they would take care of you."

B-4 studied the captain a moment, uncertain. "I have a choice?"

"Always. You have the same rights as your brother; you do not have to do anything you do not wish to."

"I see," he thought a moment before shaking his head, "No, I must refuse. There are other things to be done…"

That piqued Picard's interest. "So you do have a plan?"

"No definite plan as of yet, but a goal."

"Oh?"

"Redemption."

Picard was shocked, had they underestimated B-4 so badly as to not realize he understood the concept? Worse, the android was watching him with such a look of intensity he hadn't seen since before Data finished off the Borg Queen. Even now the memory sent a stray chill up his spine.

"B-4, what could you have possibly done that requires you to redeem yourself?"

"I participated in events that led to my brother's death."

"You couldn't have known…"

"Stop forgiving my ignorance!" B-4 snapped, hands tightened into fists, "That is all anyone tells me, as though I am not responsible for my actions! As though I am not _aware!_" He paused and relaxed, his head dropping in remorse.

Picard regarded the android in silence. That was definitely _not_ Data, just then.

"I am…sorry, sir."

"B-4, your ignorance aside, you were programmed. You had no control of your actions."

"I know, it is just that…Shinzon was never unkind to me. After his rebellion on Remus, he tried to appeal to me, despite my being a machine."

_We're very alike, you and I. Both cast aside to waste our lives here. But _your _life will not end, surely you want something better?_

Except that B-4 had just ended up disassembled and scattered on a distant planet.

"You followed him willingly."

"I lied when I said I had no memories prior to the planet where you found me, as Shinzon had ordered. He was the closest thing I had ever had to a companion. I was a human face for him to talk to, non-judging and repeating nothing. He would tell me many things, but never of his plans." He hesitated, unsure how to phrase his next words. "Sir, there was…quite a bit of you in him and…"

"That's enough." This was a conversation Picard did not want to have, especially not with B-4. The two sat in silence a moment, Picard in thought and B-4 wondering what he could ever say.

"I would have taken his place, sir."

Picard did not have to ask who he meant. "I know, B-4. You may go, we should be passing near a starbase in a few days."

"Yes sir. Thank you." B-4 rose and moved toward the door, but he paused in the entryway and turned back. "I…do not want you to think badly of me, sir. Whatever you may hear, know I do it for the greater good." And then he was gone.

The door slid shut and Picard found himself staring at the empty entryway. For the greater good? When had that ever meant what the speaker intended?

* * *

While Geordi had made it a point to avoid B-4 for the most part, he felt it wrong that Data's brother should leave without someone there to see him off. Sure enough, aside from the ensign at the controls, he was the only one in the transporter room. B-4 certainly looked surprised to see him when he arrived, his aura flickering at the edges.

He had to give the android credit; he'd progressed amazingly over the months, not only in his speech and reasoning, but in the most important way that only Geordi could see. When they'd found B-4, his aura had been little more than a thin halo surrounding him, dwarfed by Data's presence. But lately, it had grown and brightened, though it was still barely half the size of either Data's or Lore's.

"Hello, Geordi. Did you have need of the transporter?" B-4 set down the satchel he was carrying, and Geordi briefly wondered what B-4 could possibly be taking with him.

"No, I'm just here to say goodbye."

"Oh. Goodbye." B-4 picked up the satchel again and moved towards the transporter.

"That's it? That's all you have to say?"

"Geordi, I am well aware you do not like me. I will not compound our already awkward relationship."

"I don't dislike you, B-4, it's just that…"

"I understand, you need not explain yourself to me."

"No, it's just that… I shouldn't have taken my feelings out on you. Your Data's brother and I should have helped you out better. The least I can do now is wish you luck."

B-4 tilted his head in an all-too-familiar way. "Luck…it is an aspect of fate, is it not?"

"I guess that's one way you could look at it."

"A good fate…I guess that is all I can ask for." He gazed at Geordi for a moment, his mind in turmoil. There was so much he needed to say… Data says goodbye, he never had much of a chance before… You are important to him… He admires you… He misses you…

But this time, all B-4 said was, "Thank you," and he stepped onto the beaming platform.

* * *

_AN: It has been brought to my attention that B-4 already had a backstory that I was unaware of, so I'm just going to say enjoy this as an AU. I was __having trouble with Picard and even more so with Geordi, but hopefully it turned chapter was supposed to keep going, but I felt this was a good stopping point. Lore will be joining us soon (:_

_Thank you everyone who reviewed! I appreciate your comments very much. Later chapters will hopefully answer any questions you may have. Thank you for reading!_


	4. Mother

Pran would not be home until late, so Juliana felt no need to hurry with her own experiments. But hunger and heavy eyelids won out and she began cleaning her section of the lab, anticipating a hot meal and good music. She preferred not to eat alone, but the comfort of home was certainly an improvement to long nights in the lab, scrounging what she could from the communal room.

Her fantasy of a padded chair and Chopin was interrupted by a sharp beep from the wall communicator.

"Doctor Tainer?"

Juliana sighed. "Yes?"

"Excuse me, Doctor, but there's a man here to see you. Claims to be your son?" Cassandra's voice rose in a question, and Juliana realized the poor girl had never been around for Juliana's bragging sessions about her son the Starfleet officer (it _was_ a mother's right). She probably thought Juliana didn't have any children. Well, to be fair, she'd only begun talking about Data after the two had been reunited, and Cassandra was relatively new to the night watch shift.

But it wasn't like Data to visit without prior notice.

"Let him in, Cass, I'll be right down."

Ensuring everything I the lab was properly shut down, Juliana made her way to the front desk, swinging through the latrine to make sure she didn't look _too_ horrible. Data didn't visit often, and sometimes not for very long, but she always wanted to look her best when he did. But why no warning? She would have had the chance to clean out the guest room, which was currently acting as a secondary storage closet. Not that Data would mind the extra clutter, but she did.

At least she wouldn't be eating alone tonight.

She reached the front desk and Cassandra jerked her head in the direction of where Data sat, back straight but eyes shut as though sleeping. Even stranger, he wasn't wearing his Starfleet uniform. Usually she had to drag him home and force him out of the thing, but what he wore now was a simple if unflattering jumpsuit. He opened his eyes as she approached and stood.

"Hello, Data," she greeted him warmly. Juliana slowed her approach as she realized something was wrong. He was staring at her, as though unsure what to think, surprised and nervous at the same time, though so subdued she could barely pick up on it. The emotion chip was stronger than that, and Data never switched it off when visiting with her.

"Mother…?"

"Data, what's wrong?"

He snapped out of his state and said, "I am not Data. I am B-4, do you know me?"

It was Juliana's turn to stare. After several attempts, all she could manage was, "B-4? Of course I know you! But how…?"

"May we speak elsewhere, in private?"

She quickly regained her composure and nodded. "Yes of course, we'll go to my home. Cassandra? I'll see you later."

"Goodnight, Doctor."

* * *

B-4 said nothing on the way home, and Juliana was grateful for that. She had to get her thoughts together. How was B-4 here, much less communicating so well? He had struggled terribly after Noonien activated him and her late husband had deactivated him for fear he would suffer the same cascade failure that had caused the death of the first two. They'd tried to fix him at first, but the adjustments hadn't helped any, the final straw when B-4 turned back on and would not stop screaming. Noonien shut him down and practically tore out all the adjustments before falling into a depression where he didn't talk to anyone for over a week. She wondered for how long he heard their failed child screaming at night.

B-4 had been disassembled and locked into storage. Juliana assumed that Noonien would get back to him, especially after the success of Lore, but B-4 remained sealed away, nearly forgotten. Until another scientist's assistant requested access to the "broken one" for study. She'd never heard Noonien yell so loud in her life as he chased the young man out of the lab. Even Lore had looked a little unnerved and maintained a low profile for the rest of the day.

Data had told her about the discovery and subsequent activation of Lore, but there had been no mention of B-4. Who had found and reactivated him, and for how long? And how was he able to _function_? He'd barely been able to comprehend his surroundings, much less participate in them, before. But now he walked behind her perfectly, looking around in fascination at their surroundings while moving in a straight line, not straying like humans did, following their eyes.

"Here we are," she said as she led him up a short walkway to the house. It was not a large structure, but comfortable. Pran had been very pleased they were able to get it, considering the demand for homes in locations like this. It was also close to the laboratories where they worked.

The lights in the living room came on automatically as they entered and Juliana could hear the environmental controls kick on. She shut the door behind her and took a deep breath.

"What's the first thing you remember?"

B-4 continued to look around as he answered, touching various items that decorated the room. "Waking up in a Romulan lab. I was severed from my body, and I could not comprehend what was happening." He spoke with such casualness that Juliana shuddered.

"Romulans? How?"

"I do not know. I think I was found on Omicron Theta by traders and sold to the highest bidder. The Romulan cyberneticists activated me and then proceeded to study and experiment on me for the next five years until they had learned all they wanted. I was then sent to Remus for labor, since I could lift heavy objects and perform repetitive tasks in the exact same manner every time… Mother, why are you crying?"

Juliana had moved to the nearest chair and sat down, her face in her hands. B-4 stood awkwardly, unsure of what the appropriate response should be.

"Mother, I did not mean to offend…"

"I'm sorry, B-4, I'm so sorry," Juliana said, her breath hitching as she fought back more tears. She had thought Data the only survivor of the three last androids, and all along one had been alive and outside Federation space, being _tortured_, for she could think of no other thing the Romulans would do, for scientific study or otherwise. She took another deep breath to calm herself and then gestured her eldest son closer. He stepped forward, then, realizing the height difference, knelt beside her.

"But look at you, speaking so well, moving, understanding. What happened?"

"Data uploaded his memories into my mind. They have been immeasurable in my steps towards sentience."

"Data?" she asked, leaning forward and clasping his hands. He stared at them. "You've met your brother?"

"Yes, I was rescued by the crew of the _Enterprise_. Mother, I…" He couldn't put it off any longer. There was so much he wanted to know and learn from this woman, but he had come for a reason.

"Mother, Data is dead."

Her grip on his hands loosened, and then fell away entirely.

"What?"

"I am sorry, I was deactivated at the time, and I…"

Juliana didn't hear him as she could not fight the tears anymore. She had just regained her sons, why did she have to lose them again? The stray thought that she was glad that Pran was not home crossed her mind, he would be upset to see her thus.

B-4 slowly raised his hand and laid it on her shoulder. He'd seen humans do it to comfort each other, and he hoped he could do that for the woman who'd helped create him now, the one whom Data thought of as "Mother."

"Tell me," Juliana whispered, "what happened?"

And B-4 told her. It was an unemotional narrative, repeating what he'd read in the official reports, but as he spoke, Juliana's hand crept up and took hold of his, still on her shoulder. When he finished, she sat in silence, staring off into the distance.

"He was very courageous," B-4 offered. That's what everyone had said.

Juliana laughed, a choke that was borderline hysterical. "He didn't have to get himself killed for me to know that!" She then wrapped her arms around B-4's head and pulled him close. He stiffened, but let her, unsure of what he was supposed to do in return. They remained like that, mother and son, for four minutes and twenty-seven seconds. With a shuddering sigh, Juliana released him and stood up.

"I'm going to make some tea. Would you like some, B-4?"

"No, thank you," he said, rising to his feet and taking a step back.

She nodded and walked to the kitchen, her steps slow. B-4 stood alone, just now noticing the large wet splotch on his shoulder. He brushed at it, already aware of the futility of the act, and looked out the large front window. It was dark, and his reflection stood out much clearer than anything outside. He stared at the face of his father whom he'd never truly met, though the memories within him said otherwise.

After several minutes, he followed Juliana into the kitchen and watched her. She was an android, like him, but so perfect, so _human_, that she did not even know it. She was Doctor Soong's ultimate creation, and yet she had only been made from the ultimate grief. He and his brothers had been made from a dream, but she had been made from desperation.

B-4 was desperate now.

"Mother?"

She sniffed, but maintained her calm mien. "Yes, sweetheart?"

He tilted his head at the pet name. "I have no desire to bring you sorrow, nor to burden you, but there is another reason I came here."

"What is it?" Her hands trembled slightly as she sipped her tea.

"I need your help."

* * *

_Two chapters in one day. That'll never happen again. As usual this turned out longer than expected, and B-4's trying to get away from me and be all smart and stuff. That needs to stop. ConCrit always welcomed, thank you for reading._


	5. Lore

Lore jerked awake with a force that told him he'd been completely disassembled at some point. Great, for how long _this_ time? He placed that thought in a temporary file and focused on his systems check. Memory, no damage; primary power systems, good; backup systems as well; external shell check, good…wait.

Malfunction in the lower spine plates, which stuck in the outward position from the control arch. Usually the plates only shifted up and down, constricting to emulate muscle movement that allowed him human articulation, but they could also lift outward to act as an emergency venting system. He tried overriding the check, but they were locked. Not good, if he leaned forward at all the plates would slice through his skin. Not that that was so bad, the bonding matrix within the skin layer would fix that. It _did_ have its limits though, as he'd learned within the first few days of his life.

He used to follow Juliana outside the lab, and she would show him various plants from the garden or crops from their neighbors' land. But Lore had grown bored and began wandering off on his own. His father didn't mind as long as he promised to stay on their property. There was a small copse of trees near the underground complex where Lore had done his initial exploring, and it was there he first encountered some of the children of the colony. They'd stayed away from him, whispering and giggling to each other as he tried to climb a tree and laughing when he fell.

"Go away!" he snapped, sitting where he'd fallen. This was his father's property and they didn't have the right to be here. Besides, he doubted they were walking, much less trying to climb a tree when they were only one week old. The children did not leave, but grew quiet so Lore ignored them, pondering his next move. He could easily get his hands around the closest branch, and then it was just a matter of swinging his legs up and…

Something bounced off his shoulder. He turned in time for a rock to hit him in the head. It was small and lightly tossed, not even capable of hurting a human child, but Lore recognized the insult. Within a fraction of a second he accessed his databanks to locate something that would frighten children he could use: large animals with threatening features. He jumped into a crouch and snapped the large plates in his arms, legs, and back into an outward position, tearing through skin and cloth. He even dilated his pupils and yelled for good measure. The children shrieked and ran, and Lore couldn't help but feel very proud of himself.

Except that Juliana scolded him when she found out while his father stood to the side and tried valiantly not to laugh.

"They were throwing rocks at me!" Lore insisted. Juliana's demeanor changed and she actually looked apologetic before leaving, stating she had a few parents to talk to.

Doctor Soong had burst into laughter the moment she was out of earshot. However, he sobered when Lore removed his shirt and he saw the shredded skin.

"I'm glad you're mastering your fine motor functions, Lore," his father said as he repaired the artificial flesh, "but that's not what humans do, do you understand? Besides, too much damage to the bonding matrix like this and it ceases to function properly. I may have to redo this whole arm. Second, clever as that was, I don't want you frightening the children like that. Give them time to get used to you."

"But I _liked_ frightening them."

"Frightening people like that is wrong, Lore. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Father…"

"Hold still, I will fix it." That wasn't his father. The voice was the same, but the pitch and formality were all wrong. Lore looked around and was confused for all of 0.23 seconds, which was far longer than he'd prefer to be in that state. He was back in the lab on Omicron Theta, though it was larger than he remembered. How did he get here?

He felt pressure on the arch above the stuck plates, followed by a slight charge of electricity and the malfunctioned plates dropped back into position. Lore wiggled them for good measure, but they did not lock again. He leapt to his feet, the chair he'd been sitting in tipped and crashed to the floor.

"Easy, I am not finished looking you over."

Lore whirled and came face to face with a Soong-type android, who merely arched his brows and sighed in annoyance, setting aside some tools. No Starfleet uniform, just a plain tunic with long sleeves, coarse trousers tucked into boots, and a ragged scarf.

"Honestly, I'm not surprised," Lore said, stepping back, "I knew you'd tire of playing Federation lapdog eventually. Even _you_ are better than that, brother."

"Yes, yes," his brother waved him off and moved to the corner, flipping some switches on the wall controls. When nothing happened, he slapped the console, and a hum began to creep through the walls. The dim lights brightened. "That is better. I had to reroute some of the power to jumpstart you. Your power source was completely depleted, but it should be fine now. The Daystrom scientists could not seem to reassemble it correctly. I am glad I did not go with them."

"How long was I deactivated?" Lore demanded, tiring of his brother's sudden chattiness. Moving slowly, he began to approach the table where several large tools were laying.

"Nine years."

"And they _still_ couldn't figure me out?" Almost there, his overly-trusting brother had yet to notice, still puttering around the lab.

"Our father was in a class by himself, it seems."

"Indeed." His hand wrapped around a particularly heavy instrument. Androids they were, but a solid strike to the right place of the head stunned them as well as anybody. Whatever Data had up those ugly long sleeves of his, Lore wanted no part of it. Besides, he still had to repay his brother for deactivating him. Lore would enjoy coming up with nine years worth of punishment. "Tell me, brother, did you miss me?"

His brother finally turned and looked at him. "We have never met."

And Lore collapsed in a heap, his impromptu weapon rolling from his limp hand.

He couldn't move, save his eyes which rolled around and watched a pair of boots approach. "What's happening? What did you _do_?"

"Insurance. You do not know me, but I am all too familiar with you. While reconstructing you, I installed a link between us. I have the power to render you immobilized." The new android knelt beside him, laying a hand gently on his shoulder. "I am identified as the android B-4. It is a pleasure to meet you, little brother."

Lore sat up, able to move again as his brother moved away. B-4? There were pages about him in Doctor Soong's notes that Lore had perused long ago. The dysfunctional prototype that had been locked away in storage before Lore had been created.

"How the _hell_ did you get activated? You couldn't function!"

"You know about me, then? Interesting."

Lore collapsed again, unable to move as the link activated. "What was that for?"

"Merely proving a point, my brother. By the way, should you think of turning on me, know that if I am shut off, you will be immobilized. Should you move out of range, you will be immobilized. If I am destroyed, you will be immobilized. You may want to ensure my safety."

B-4 crouched over Lore again, whispering in his ear, "Am I inferior? Yes. Stupid? Maybe. But a fool, I am not. You, brother, are now mine."

* * *

Lore had spent the last thirty minutes and twenty-seven seconds reading what was left of the damaged logs left by the colonists during their final days on Omicron Theta. The lab was larger than he remembered because they'd built this underground complex after he was dismantled, expanding the lab to accommodate several scientists. The children had foreseen the coming of the Crystal Entity, and the colonists had tried to prepare for it. Fat lot of good it did them, Lore thought with a smile.

B-4 had left after their confrontation without a word, and as soon as he was out the door Lore could move again. He considered leaving himself, but thought better of it. Now that he knew it was there, he could almost feel the damn link between the two of them, though his systems could not detect the receiver. That disturbed him more than anything.

The door opened and B-4 entered, carrying a set of clothes under his arm. He placed it on one of the tables and slid it towards Lore.

"You may wear these. That jumpsuit won't last long, and it might get rough out there."

Lore glowered at him and closed down the logs.

"Do not be like that, Lore. You would not respect me if I did not establish a superior position, and I need you."

"And you decided to request my help by slamming me to the floor?"

"As I said, I know you, Lore. You are treacherous and a liar."

"And how could you know me if we've never met? More to the point, how are you even functioning?"

B-4 sat on the edge of the table. "Due to the memories of Data I carry and the expansions Juliana managed to place into my positronic net, I am able to enjoy cognitive awareness equal to that of a human."

A temporary fix, Juliana had stressed to him, she didn't know how long the adjustments could remain compatible with his systems before they shorted out. B-4 just needed them to last as long as his mission. Afterwards, when his cognitive abilities failed, he would submit himself to the Daystrom institute. Not that he had much of a choice anymore; he and Lore were both fugitives.

"Juliana's still alive?" Lore asked, incredulous.

"Yes." B-4 said nothing more. If Lore still wanted revenge, to mention her location could be her end. Worse, Lore could just as easily discover her secret as Data did, and reveal it to her out of spite.

"And Data's memories? Explains a lot, actually." Lore leaned back, spinning slowly in the chair as though bored, "Did you two team up? Is he here?"

"What is left of him."

Lore glanced sharply at B-4 and stopped spinning.

B-4 continued. "Data was destroyed, and I safeguard his memories. We two are the last."

Standing, Lore began pacing the laboratory. Data destroyed. His little brother was dead. What was he supposed to feel? Remorse? Loss? _Satisfaction_? "Is that why you brought me back? 'Cause you were _lonely_?"

"Nothing so mundane. As I said, I need your help. I have a proposition for you."

"Hardly a proposition when you have me on a subspace leash."

B-4 shrugged. "A deal, then, I do not care what you call it. There are two things I ask of you, and when these are done, I will permanently sever the link between us. You will be free to go."

"Yes, free to go back to the Federation labs."

"I have no intention to send you to a lab anywhere. You are my brother, and I will not subject you to that hell."

Lore found his word choice interesting. "Fine then. Let's say I agree. What exactly do you want from me?"

"I need a new name."

"What?" Lore almost laughed; this guy had to be kidding.

"B-4 is the identification of a machine, I am more than that now, but I do not have the resources to choose my own name. You will do it for me."

"Right, I'll get to work on that…" Lore said sarcastically. If the second request was as simple as the first, Lore would be out of here in no time. "What's the second thing?"

"We are going to bring back our brother."

Lore waited for the punch line, but B-4 just continued to sit there and stare at him, so Lore sighed and looked around the lab for spare android parts. "And how are we going to do that?"

"We are going to go to the Romulan Empire, gather his remains, and rebuild him."

At that, Lore moved close to B-4, gazing into his eyes as though searching for a great revelation. One which, oddly enough, he found.

"I think I just figured out why our father _really_ shut you off."


End file.
